Treed
by Maria Rene
Summary: Communing with nature takes a dangerous turn when the team must pursue an artifact through the rugged terrain of California's Sierra Nevada mountains.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimers, special thanks, and such: Not mine, alas. Bonus points to the first person who messages me privately, identifying the three quotes in chapter 1 that are referring to another TV show, hijacked from another TV show, and swiped from a movie (there's at least one of each of those buried in here somewhere). Special thanks to InuGhost, MagellinaFluffQueen, and LadyNRA, for your feedback, thoughts, and encouragement in this project. I could not have pulled this one off without the time that each of you so graciously gave me.

A/N: Yes, it really is an actual, mush-free story, with some semblance of a plot instead of just fluff and stuff! Happy birthday, my friend. Rest of the story's in your email whenever you're ready for it!

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><p>Artie was stretched out on the sofa in the loft above his office, book in hand and eyes closed, when he heard the familiar hiss of the door opening downstairs. He opened his eyes and listened intently, but made no move to get up. The warehouse didn't usually see any of its agents on weekends, save himself, but downstairs, somebody was clearly pacing around the office, rummaging here, rustling papers there. With a frown, Artie decided this warranted his attention. He silently closed his book and slipped it onto the end table as his body smoothly drew up to a sitting position. Artie blinked as his knee popped painfully, but remained otherwise quiet as he planned his approach to the stairwell.<p>

Before he even got to a standing position, however, he heard distinctive footfalls on the circular iron staircase. He knew those shoes. Artie rolled his eyes and resumed his reclining position, one chubby hand darting out to reclaim the novel he'd been pretending to read while letting his mind wander. _Murder Sees the Light_ was one of his favourite novels, after all, and he had long ago ceased to need to read its pages to know the story that unfolded within them. By the time Myka's figure appeared in the stairwell, Artie already looked half-asleep again. He eyed her but remained silent until he realized she'd been standing there for a couple of minutes, and she'd begun to look like she was about to explode with agitation.

"What?" Artie finally asked his agent, letting the book close on a finger as if he needed to mark his page. Myka shifted from one foot to the other as she looked at him, a thoughtful frown across her face.

"I think I need a couple days off," Myka said finally.

"You got it," Artie answered, turning his focus back to his book.

Myka's eyebrow shot up. "Really?" She hadn't expected it to be that easy.

"Yesterday and today. Couple days. See you bright and early tomorrow morning," Artie clarified, provoking a peevish sigh from the younger agent as she crossed her arms and leaned against the top of the stair railing in what Artie supposed was intended to be a casual stance, even though something about her didn't feel very casual or relaxed right now. Artie turned his gaze back to his book, willing her to accept his answer and go away, even though he could tell she wasn't planning to budge until she got her way.

"Artie, I'm serious. I've been under a lot of personal stress, of late, and I need to take a little time off before it gets worse." Artie glanced back up at the woman standing across the room from him, and this time he took a good look. She seemed like the usual, put-together Myka, neat and professional. But on closer inspection, the senior Warehouse agent noticed her color seemed a little off, a little sickly, as if she wasn't sleeping well. Her eyes looked like he was pretty sure his usually did after a cross-country flight with a screaming, flailing toddler in the seat behind him. Artie heaved a sigh.

"I'll think about it," he answered. Truthfully, now that he'd considered it more carefully, he was pretty sure that Myka needed a little time off, but he had no idea how long this had been going on. Artie was hesitant to break apart one of the best teams he'd ever had the honor of working with, just because Myka perhaps had had a bad night's sleep. He made a mental note to ask Leena about Myka's well-being when he went back to the B&B for dinner later, before deciding what to do with this unexpected request. Myka, clearly accepting his noncommittal answer, thanked Artie and left him to resume gazing blankly at page 57 while letting his mind wander.

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><p>It seemed like not much time passed when Artie realized he needed to put his book away and head back to Leena's. Dinner wouldn't be served for a little while yet, but if he wanted to chat with Leena, alone, about Myka's demand for time off, he needed to get there early. Artie wondered idly, as he packed his bag and headed downstairs, if Pete would already be hanging around the kitchen like a half-starved bear at an outdoor wedding, but to his relief, he found the house relatively quiet when he let himself into the foyer. The only sound was the stir-fry that he could smell from the front door. Entering the kitchen, Artie took note of Pete and Claudia out in the yard, tossing a football back and forth lazily as they appeared to be having a good talk. Pete had taken a strong interest in playing older brother to the team's youngest member, and Artie could tell by the easy smile on Claudia's face that the relationship, not quite friendship but not entirely mentorship either, was a good experience for them both. Artie leaned on the counter near the kitchen doorway, quietly watching Leena push vegetables around in the skillet, while tending rice in a nearby pot. He knew she'd seen him, by the way her eyebrow had arched slightly when he entered the room, but she hadn't acknowledge his presence yet, so he continued to wait.<p>

"No lurking without a permit, Artie," Leena said after the silence had hung between them for a minute or so. She glanced over towards him, taking in the uncertain expression, the questions she could practically see floating in his eyes. "Can you hand me the broth?" she asked, tilting her head to indicate the pitcher of vegetable broth leftover from soup-making day. Artie grunted his assent as he grabbed the pitcher and crossed the room to hand it off to this caretaker of caretakers. "Okay, enough silence. Talk," she said, shooting him a meaningful look as she took the pitcher from him and poured some of the liquid into the rice.

"How— how do you think Myka's doing?" Artie said after a moment's hesitation. Leena turned curious eyes on the eldest of her charges, taking in the concern and uncertainty and considering it in a new light, with the new information presented in this question. While he tried to be aware of their needs, Artie wasn't one to worry about the emotional well-being of his agents without good reason, certainly not this pair of agents. Leena turned back to her cooking, mulling over the question at hand.

Artie returned to his place, leaning against the counter near the doorway, as he waited for her to consider the question and whatever else it was that Leena considered before she was willing to speak on a subject. He waited for what felt like several minutes, watching her head bob now and then in thought, before his patience began to wear thin. Dinner was nearly cooked, Pete and Claudia had given up their game of catch and were sitting on the park bench, Myka's footsteps could be heard in her bedroom upstairs as she got ready for dinner, and Artie's private chat with Leena was running perilously close to no longer being private.

"Leena?" he prompted, getting only one raised index finger from the enigmatic woman in response. "Leena, Congress doesn't take this long," Artie groused. He was accustomed to the slow pace required to hold a conversation with the intuitive, very thorough thinker, but Artie's patience had its limits, even with Leena. She gave him only a mysterious, Mona Lisa smile while she dished dinner into proper china and set it aside to be served in a few moments. She turned to face him, leaning against the sink, mimicking Artie's posture.

"She's stressed beyond belief, Artie. The uncertainty that MacPherson threw us all into, her father's illness, all of us not knowing who to trust, it's been harder on Myka than she's willing to admit, even to herself, I think. She's made offhand remarks to herself about feeling burned-out and run-down... remarks I don't think she realizes I overheard. I've been just slightly concerned about her for a few weeks now. Why do you ask?" Now it was Artie's turn to fall silent for an uncomfortably long moment.

"She asked for a couple days off," he finally answered, prompting Leena's eyebrows to slide up in surprise.

"She's recognized that she's nowhere near the top of her game," Leena said. Artie nodded in reply. He hadn't thought about that, but now that Leena had put words to it, he was certain they were correct. "Artie, she needs time off, and not just a weekend of lounging around the house. She needs to relax, for real, and God love her, Myka is as bad at that as you are." Artie shot a dirty look at his colleague, but he knew she was right, about Myka and about himself. "What's their next case?" Leena continued.

Artie handed over a folder from his bag, for Leena to flip through as he summarized it briefly. She merely glanced at the first page, then brought her gaze back up to Artie's eyes. "Barring any more-urgent pings, I was planning to send them to California. Not terribly serious, but might as well nab it while things are quiet."

"Sounds fairly straightforward," Leena replied, bobbing her head in understanding. "And fairly benign. You can probably send Claudia with Pete on that one. I'll take Myka to town with me on Monday. It's my spa day." She handed the file back to Artie, who flipped through it himself to refresh his memory.

"All right, let's..." Artie said, his words drifting into oblivion as he suddenly processed all of Leena's words. "You have a regular spa day?" he asked, shooting a perplexed look at his companion.

Leena threw an amused look Artie's way. "I have to do something to find serenity around here. I'm sure not going to find it hanging around you!" she quipped, getting a mirthless chuckle out of Artie in response.

"Certainly not going to find it on the Fox network..." he muttered. "All right, let's... you do that, take Myka with you on Monday and do whatever - whatever it is that women do at a spa," Artie muttered, halfway to himself, as he put the file back in his bag and meandered out of the room. Leena smiled and shook her head at that, curls of hair bobbing in her line of vision. Wherever Artie had been all day, mentally, he was obviously a little late returning to reality. Leena carried dinner to the dining room and placed it on the table that Myka had set for her earlier in the afternoon, before reaching for the phone in her pocket to leave a message with the little day spa in Featherhead, adding Myka to her reservation.

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><p>Towards the end of dinner, Leena began picking up dishes to wash. Artie, predictably, took the hint and reached for the folders he'd left in the bag at his feet, getting down to business before he lost Pete's attention entirely for the night.<p>

"I got a ping earlier today," he began, as he opened the folders and confirmed that they were in fact the files he thought he had grabbed amongst the chaos in his bag. Pete and Myka both reached for the two folders, but Artie jerked one of them away from Myka's outstretched hand, sliding it instead toward Claudia.

"You actually want me to go on a case, after the last time I..." she fell silent as Artie put a hand up and began talking over top of her.

"I already did half the work for you; I've even already highlighted the two most probable items you're looking for," he explained, terse irritation coloring his tone. "Only reason you're doing it at all is that it's quiet enough that we have the luxury of playing offense on this one. It's the perfect case for you to get a little more field experience."

Pete's eyebrow shot up at that. "Easy case," he muttered, getting a snicker out of Claudia. "Famous last words. Myka, be sure that's etched on my tombstone when some easy case inevitably does me in, okay?" Artie rolled his eyes and gathered up his things, quite ready to head to bed and read for a while longer, before sleep would beckon. As he stood up to leave the dining room, Myka caught his eye and mouthed "thank you" to him. Artie nodded almost imperceptibly at her. He didn't figure she wanted anybody else to know she needed a break, and had just gone on sheer hope that Pete wouldn't decide this was a good moment to ask too many questions. He hoped Myka wouldn't want too many more days off, though... even Pete would begin to ask questions if Artie kept her home again anytime soon!

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><p>Artie rubbed his face, breathing deeply to calm himself. It had taken what seemed like forever to get Myka and Leena to leave, and then before the dust had even settled, Pete had called with some problem or another in California. It had taken nearly twenty minutes to get rid of him, testing Artie's patience far more than even he had thought possible. <em>Wasn't even an interesting problem,<em> Artie mused as he poured himself a fresh cup of herbal tea. Grabbing a cookie from the plate as he passed the table, he slid back into his office chair. One nice thing about everybody else, even Leena, being away, was the solitude in which he could get a few things done around the Warehouse. While Artie appreciated the lively environment that these new agents and teenage geek had brought to his world, he had developed a healthy appreciation for the rare quiet days, too.

Artie drew another deep, cleansing breath, reveling in the peace and quiet. Just as he brought the cup to his lips, however, he froze, blinking a couple times as he processed the information on the screen. Artie groaned softly and shoveled the cookie into his mouth with one hand as the teacup found the desk almost of its own volition. He leaped from chair, threw a few seemingly random items into his bag on his way to the door, then doubled back to take a gulp of his tea and grab one more cookie before he ran out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry for the delay; I thought I'd published this several days ago, but evidently I got distracted before I completed the task! Special thanks to KJay99 for all your time and effort on this project.

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><p>"This was a great idea," Myka said with a smile as she practically bounded towards the car. Leena smiled serenely back at her companion. There wasn't much, even in their strange world, that couldn't be fixed by a good massage, followed by manicure, pedicure, and tame curls that somebody else had done the work to accomplish.<p>

"Unfortunately, we still have to go home and get some work done," Leena said, "but we've only got to put dinner on for ourselves and Artie. Should go quickly." Myka smiled even more fully at that. Leena often did much of the work involved in caring for the B&B, so the agents could focus more fully on work, but Myka pitched in often enough to know that feeding five people was not as small a production as she would have thought. As Leena turned the car out of the parking lot and homeward, Myka slid a classical music disc into the stereo and let her eyes drift closed. She'd needed this break, badly, and she wasn't quite ready for it to end. Leena glanced over periodically, watching the agent draw deep, cleansing breaths during the entire drive back home.

"That's strange," Leena said, shaking Myka from her meditative state. Her eyes opened to reveal the B&B, looking just as they had left it that morning.

"What's strange?" Myka asked.

Leena pointed at the time displayed on the car stereo screen. "Five o'clock. Artie's usually here by now, and rummaging through my kitchen, eating as if he's forgotten dinner's going to be on the table in an hour," she said, a mix of amusement and annoyance almost concealing her concern... almost. Myka's brow furrowed at Leena's observation, before she blew out a deep breath.

"He's probably gotten sucked into Pete and Claudia's case, and lost track of time," Myka pointed out. It wasn't often that Artie forgot about dinner, but it had been known to happen from time to time. "He said it was an easy case, after all. It probably fell apart on them as soon as we left this morning," she rationalized, and Leena nodded in agreement, and the two bounded inside and into the kitchen to begin preparing dinner, their concern abated.

Leena was preparing a fruit salad when she suddenly realized she was seeing some kind of motion at the edge of her visual field. Glancing over, she realized it was a flashing indicator on a cell phone.

"Myka, I think you've got a voicemail or something," she said over her shoulder toward the taller woman, who was fileting chicken breasts to grill. Myka hummed noncommittally as she washed her hands, and picked up her phone to check messages. Her curious look turned to one of such seriousness that Leena stopped what she was doing, leaving a half-formed melon ball when she reached for a damp dishcloth to wipe her hands on.

"Leena, you need to hear this," Myka muttered, as she put her phone on speaker, and replayed the message.

Artie's tinny voice projected from the tiny speaker. "Myka! Why aren't you..." he paused to sigh loudly into the phone. "When you get this, I... ping. Some guy going psycho in California, uh Yosemite...you... ow!.. who puts a post in the middle of a walkway... get on the next flight out there. .. ICU and beat his wife. So, just... just meet me out there and CALL me back!" The call abruptly cut off, and Myka wasn't sure how much of the strange message was just Artie being Artie, and how much of it was a connection problem. Leena and Myka stared at each other for a moment before both leaped for their cell phones, Myka calling Artie back and Leena making arrangements for Myka to leave as soon as possible.

"Why didn't you have your phone with you?" Artie snapped as soon as he picked up Myka's call.

"I left it at home because they don't allow them in the spa," Myka explained, feeling just a tad defensive. "Leena had hers in the car; why didn't you call it?"

"I'm in Denver already," Artie said, charging into his conversation without bothering to answer Myka's question. "You may have already missed the last flight to California for the day, but... just get out here. We've got a guy going totally nuts, even though he is, by all accounts, the most mild-mannered guy in all recorded history. It's got to be some kind of artifact, I just can't figure... just call me when you get here!" With that, he simply hung up on his agent, who rolled her eyes. Leena pointed towards the stairs and mouthed "pack," and Myka didn't need any further instructions. She ran upstairs and ripped open her duffel bag, taking mere moments to inventory the supplies within, and launch a few more articles of clothing in to round out her bag of gear. Leena was already by the front door when Myka thundered back down the stairs, grabbing a light jacket off her coat hook as she passed it, and the two were back in the car in a matter of moments.

"Artie thinks I've already missed the last flight for today," Myka said, shooting a questioning look at Leena.

"I've made other arrangements," the innkeeper said as she pulled the car onto the road, not bothering to explain any further just yet. Myka wanted to ask more, but it really didn't matter, she realized as she watched the scenery whiz by. She was a little surprised at Leena's driving; the woman was known for being calm and in-control, following the speed limit religiously. But this time, they were doing nearly 30 over. It didn't take them long to get to the local airfield at that rate. Usually they parked at the double-wide trailer that had been pressed into duty as a passenger terminal, back when dinosaurs still roamed the earth. But this time, Leena drove around to a hangar, and parked practically side by side with a quite small plane. Myka considered the woman leaning against the doorway of the aircraft in casual attire, then shot a questioning look at Leena, who only leaped out of the car and grabbed Myka's bag to pass up to the other woman.

"Myka, I'd like to introduce you to Joanne, Mrs. Frederic's personal pilot," Leena said. Even in her most terse, rushed moments, Myka observed, Leena was still grace personified. "Joanne, Myka needs to get as near to Yosemite National Park as humanly possible."

"You want me to land her, or just give her a chute and toss her out?" the woman asked. Only the sparkle in her eyes clued Myka in that she was joking... Myka hoped that meant she was joking, anyway.

"Doesn't matter as long as she gets there in one piece!" Leena shouted as she ran back to her car. "I've got to get to the warehouse to coordinate resources." Myka's eyes went wide at that. It doesn't matter if the plane landed or not before she disembarked? And this Joanne woman, in spite of being a couple inches shorter than Myka, looked like she was perfectly capable of shoving a passenger out of the plane if she wanted to! _"Self,"_ she heard her mind say as she took a couple timid steps up the stairs towards the plane, _"this is perhaps not the most intelligent thing to do."_ Suddenly, Myka found herself rethinking this whole secret service career plan, and wondering if it wasn't too late to get an accounting degree and run the bookstore with her parents.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry for the huge delays... real life keeps demanding time! I owe more thanks (and Vanilla Porter) than I can possibly give, to KJay99 for hours upon hours of what started as beta work, and has morphed into co-writing and patiently teaching me how to handle a plot-driven story.

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><p>"Oh!" Leena shouted, pausing to say one last thing over the roof of her car before she got in. "She hasn't had dinner yet, and she's going to have to hit the ground running."<p>

"No worries," the pilot called as she waved at Leena, who was already diving into the driver's seat, before Joanne shooed a somewhat hesitant Myka aboard. "I'm flying solo today, because we didn't have time to scare up any other pilots with the security clearance for Warehouse business. So you can settle in the passenger cabin and relax, but I'm going to leave the door open, and you're welcome to come sit with me if you like. I need to get some paperwork sorted out before we can take off, but once we get in the air, there's food in the galley." Joanne stepped forward, then hitched up and turned around. "Oh yeah... welcome aboard Warehouse 13 Airlines, emergency exits are there and there," she said, pointing in what seemed, to the increasingly-overloaded agent, like all directions at once. "Seat cushions turn into floatation... oh, you know the drill. We aren't going to need any of that, anyway." With that, Joanne gave Myka one more confident grin as she vanished into what seemed like a sea of gauges and switches.

Myka stood still for just a moment, staring around at the very definition of luxury that she had been whisked into. Not an hour ago, she'd been fileting chicken, for grilled chicken wraps for dinner, and now she was standing in the most well-decorated space she thought she'd ever seen, filled with overstuffed furniture and an entertainment system that would have Pete turning cartwheels in the aisle. She wasn't quite sure her mind was even able to catch up to this situation she now found herself in.

To combat that sense of bewilderment, Myka went with her usual first step by grabbing her duffel bag and shoving it into an overhead compartment. That process, at least, was more or less like all the planes she'd ever been on before. With one more nervous glance at the unfamiliar surroundings, Myka blew out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, and stepped forward, following Joanne. She wasn't a nervous flier, by any stretch of the imagination, but this sudden chaos had her reeling, and she didn't feel like spending the entire three-hour flight alone.

Joanne smiled warmly at Myka, who smiled back even though she knew it did nothing to cover over her overwhelmed expression. "Never flown private before?" Joanne asked. Myka shook her head. "Well have a seat, buckle up. I need silence while I go through my pre-flight routine, and takeoff procedures, and I need you to not touch anything without permission, of course. But we'll have plenty of time to chat once we get up there, and it's going to be a hell of a view tonight." Joanne seemed to radiate energy rather like Claudia did, Myka thought as she gingerly slid into the open seat, a little too close for comfort to the mind-boggling array of controls.

She watched with unconcealed fascination as this woman, clad in a purple t-shirt, faded jeans, and smart-looking suede boots, breezed through her work as if if were something she often did in her sleep. With practiced movements, she tested various controls as she consulted a paper checklist, talking in complete gibberish periodically with... well with whomever was on the other end of the radio system. The process took quite some time, and yet almost before Myka knew what was happening, she was watching the earth shrink in the wide expanse of windshield before her. She put a hand on her stomach, which felt just a little bit strange. The last time she'd bothered to watch out the window during takeoff, she was pretty sure she hadn't yet turned ten years old, and these windows certainly made the usual view look like absolutely nothing.

"You're not going to get sick on me, are you?" Joanne asked, her words flowing just as effortlessly and quickly as her hands flowed over the controls. "You're okay to talk now, by the way. We're done with the busy part."

"I don't get motion sick," Myka answered. Joanne nodded, satisfied. "Just feels different up here," she added by way of explanation.

Joanne smiled again, and Myka decided in that moment that she liked this woman. "You should have seen Artie, the first time I let him ride up here. He spent half the flight trying to tell me how to do my job. By the time we got over Kentucky, I was about ready to shove him out and tell him to just hold his shirttail out to use as a parachute!" Myka chuckled in spite of her general sense of discomfort. That sounded like Artie, all right. Joanne glanced over at her passenger as she banked left to bypass a summer storm on their way to their destination. She'd managed to get a flight plan landing them in a city near the forest where Artie was headed, but by the time they got there, Artie and his rental car would likely be long gone. Joanne hoped Leena could solve that problem before they landed in California.

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><p>Claudia closed her eyes and breathed deeply, allowing herself to experience the sensation of being at rest, sprawled across her bed. She could hear the shower running in Pete's room next door, and she knew she needed to call and check in with Artie, but for just a few moments, she took the time to simply be. There was nothing quite like a good, cushy bed after a long day of travel and artifact-snagging. Of course, this was nothing like a good, cushy bed either, but it was close enough. After a couple more deep, cleansing breaths, she rolled over and fished in her bag for her farnsworth. Claudia combed through her hair with one hand as the other flipped the communication unit open. By the time the screen flickered to life, she was resting her chin on one hand, waiting expectantly for Artie's image to appear.<p>

Claudia's confusion was evident when Leena glanced over at the screen, having answered the call on just a little bit of auto-pilot as she worked at Artie's desk.

"Hi, Claudia," the enigmatic woman said cheerfully. "What do you need?"

"Um, Artie, for one," Claudia shot back. "Where is he?"

Leena glanced over at the computer screen before she answered. "7,000 feet above California, and falling fast." Claudia rolled her eyes, wondering when Artie's wry sense of humor had rubbed off on Leena. "He got a ping," the woman continued to explain. "Pretty serious one. He's on his way to Yosemite to deal with it. I have a funny feeling about this one, Claudia. I think you and Pete need to consider abandoning your case for now." Leena chuckled in spite of her concern, when, with a moan of dismay, Claudia's hair suddenly blocked the view of her screen before clearing to reveal the teen laying face-first in the mattress. Leena knew they weren't going to be thrilled to have to change gears like this, but there was nothing to be done about it.

Claudia didn't even bother to report in about their case; she merely fished the artifact bag out of her messenger bag, and jiggled it in what she supposed was Leena's line of sight, before she lifted her head to make eye contact with her coworker. "Pete's in the shower. Leena, how serious is this ping? We've been up for... I don't even know how long, since four in the morning, South Dakota time." Claudia wasn't reassured by Leena's contemplative frown, or by the fact that Pete's off-key singing had suddenly stopped mid-verse, and the water had turned off. He usually finished out the song he was on, before he got out of the shower.

"Sleep first, and get moving early tomorrow," Leena answered. "Myka's only a couple hours behind him, so she'll catch up to him, and anyway you're no use to the case if you're falling asleep."

Claudia nodded. "Hey, Leena?" she asked, her voice suddenly sounding more uncertain. Leena turned and gave the girl her full attention. "Is Myka okay?" Claudia asked after a moment of awkward silence. Leena smiled and nodded, thankful for the day she'd just spent being certain of that, so she didn't have to lie to Claudia.

"She's fine, Claudia. You and Pete rest up, okay? Let me know if you need anything. Oh! What was the artifact you snagged? I'll start preparing for it."

"Pocket watch," Claudia answered. "I still have no idea what's the story with that one, but it's definitely the pocket watch."

"I'll start doing some research. Good work," Leena said, smiling as she reached for the button to disconnect the Farnsworth, and began the research and paperwork involved in adding a new artifact to the warehouse's collection. Periodically, she glanced over at Claudia's computer screen, where she had tracking information for Artie and Myka's flights. Artie had gone commercial, but she'd put Myka on Mrs. Frederic's private plane. Headphones created indentations in her curls as she kept tabs on the police scanner where Artie had first discovered that they had a serious artifact problem, while her non-dominant hand sifted through Artie's desk drawer, fishing for a notepad she knew was in there somewhere.

A French accented voice suddenly came through the cacophony of information Leena was managing. "Might I be able to help?"

"No Pierre. Thank you." She wished there was something that the man in the painting could help her with, but unless it was observing or translating, he was still just a painting.

"Perhapz se radio?" Pierre suggested.

"Pierre, you spent I-don't-even-know how many years in the warehouse, doing absolutely nothing. Surely you can entertain yourself without having music on to drive me out of my mind," she said firmly.

"Ah." Pierre sounded disappointed. "I just thought that perhaps I could help jou wis ze monitoring."

Leena stopped writing. She lifted the headset from her ear and looked at the little man in the painting. "You can monitor the frequency…"

The paint in the portrait shifted into a smile on Pierre's face. "Jes. If you like. I would like to help you."

Leena's face softened. She knew that Pierre seemed to exhibit a soft spot for her, as weird as that was, she appreciated the thought.

She pulled off the headset that were giving her a headache anyway, and put a speaker cord in the radio. The speaker was placed in front of the painting and Pierre mysteriously made a paper and pencil appear in his little painted world. She briefed him on what to listen for, making sure that he was clear. Then she was able to only lend half an ear to the radio calls in the background and turned the majority of her attention on the logistics that following three separate teams in the field requires.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Yeah, I know... slow to update, story of my life! This should hold y'all over for the next few weeks while I'm out of town, I hope. As usual, not mine, not profiting from it (drat), and unending thanks to KJay99 for the beta work, and allowing my often time-consuming things to become important and worthwhile to you.

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><p>"So, this is your case file," Joanne said to Myka as she reached into a pocket alongside her seat. She rummaged for just a moment, before yanking something out and glancing down at it. "No, those are my charts," she muttered as she shoved the papers under one leg to secure them. After another moment, her face brightened and the searching hand came back up, holding a beat-up manila folder which she passed over to Myka before putting her aviation maps back where they came from. "It's probably not organized like you're accustomed to, but I did what I could with the information Artie dumped on me during his Las Vegas layover."<p>

"I thought he was in Denver," Myka muttered, already flipping through the pages and organizing them to her liking.

"He had a second plane change in Vegas," Joanne explained, "so at this point he knows I'm bringing you to catch up, and I was able to get some data for you. It looks like a pretty hairy mess, there, from what I saw."

"Nothing we haven't dealt with before," Myka muttered.

"Well, you have some time to review that," Joanne said. "I'll land at an airport about two hours' drive from where you're going. I don't know exactly how you're going to get the rest of the way, but Leena's all over that already, and she'll get some information to us before we land."

Myka nodded, allowing herself to sink into the case file. John Spencer, an avid hiker and nature aficionado, had been picked up by law enforcement after concerned tourists had reported observing him and his wife Marion behind the visitors' center, acting strangely. Park rangers had expected the usual overly-amorous visitors, but instead they found John giving a very convincing pep talk about the benefits of giving one's life to the cause of ridding the forest of human interference. It might not have been quite so bizarre if he hadn't been wielding some sort of homemade flamethrower, and talking to two pine trees whose branches overhung the roof of the building, but he was, so it was, and that was evidently how it ended up alerting Artie.

When local law enforcement had attempted to arrest him, two officers and Marion had ended up getting burned by the surprisingly effective flamethrower. All three were currently heavily sedated, but expected to survive with varying degree of permanent effects. John's friend Bruce had been along on the hiking trip, and was also in custody, but he seemed not to be involved, judging by the way he'd given chase and gotten himself injured while trying to stop John from escaping capture. Rangers were trying to track him, but Yosemite being some of the most rugged terrain on the continent, and Thomas's lifelong love of the forest both meant that they probably weren't going to find him anytime soon. This was someone who probably had the experience to stay hidden for weeks, and lord only knew how long he could hold out with the resources in his hiking pack.

Artie had included a note that as a teen, John Spencer had run afoul of the law by participating in anti-logging demonstrations in his native Oregon, but he'd seemed to figure out, somewhere in college, how to be a tree-hugger without committing any felonies... until today, anyway.

Myka blew out a weary sigh. She had a feeling that by the end of this case, they were going to wish they'd only been asked to find a needle in a haystack. She glanced at what she supposed was the altimeter, then shot a curious look at Joanne. They seemed to be at cruising altitude, but she wasn't entirely sure.

"Getting hungry?" Joanne asked, noticing Myka's gaze. The agent nodded in reply, though Joanne was already scanning the information available to her. "Yeah, it looks smooth for the next little bit. Go rummage in the galley and see what you can scare up for the both of us. Could you get some coffee brewing, too? It was a little cold in... where I was this morning. I'm still thawing out." Joanne chuckled to herself once Myka had stepped away to find dinner. The agent was trying to act calm and collected, but her round eyes spoke plainly of how unnerving this was for her. She knew that the agent had been called to active duty on her girls' day out with Leena, coming straight to a very high-pressure case from a day at the spa. It had to be hard to shift gears from one extreme to the other. The agent was clearly handling it well, but it was as plain as the nose on her face that Myka was being stretched to her limit today.

* * *

><p>Claudia shoved her Farnsworth off onto the nightstand. She was suddenly glad that Pete had left the pair's shared communication device with Myka, depending on just Claudia's on this trip. At least it'd be easier for them all to regroup and figure out what they were doing. Claudia didn't even bother to get out of bed to change her clothes, merely shoving jeans off and yanking knit pajama pants on before she rolled over and flicked off the bedside lamp, plunging her room into darkness. They would naturally wake up well before dawn, simply because of the time difference. She would tell Pete about their change of plans in the morning.<p>

Claudia's plan only lasted about two more minutes, when the door connecting her room to Pete's suddenly flung open. _Note to self, leave that door locked when on a case with Pete,_ she thought to herself.

"I got a bad vibe," Pete said, his tone sounding disturbingly urgent. Claudia rolled back over and opened her eyes, then immediately threw her forearm over them.

"For the love of pete, Pete, give a woman some warning when you're going to burst into her bedroom naked!" she snapped, more from frustration after her chat with Leena, than anything else.

Pete, having not heard the actual cause of his temporary partner's irritation, looked down at himself. "I'm covered..." he said, genuinely uncertain as to what Claudia was griping about. It wasn't the first time he'd come out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, after all. "Did you talk to Artie?" Pete asked.

"Sorry, just a little frustrated. Artie wasn't there; I talked to Leena," Claudia said, then cringed inwardly when Pete made that obnoxious "confused cartoon dog" grunt that pretty much demanded that she explain further. So much for her wait-for-morning plan. "Artie got a ping and ran off by himself, and she says she doesn't..." Claudia's voice trailed off as she put two and two together. Pete had a vibe. Leena had a nasty feeling. This couldn't be good. "Leena doesn't have a good feeling about the case Artie's on," she finished weakly.

"Neither do I, now," Pete muttered. "Vibe was about Artie." _Yeah, saw that one coming,_ the teen thought, blowing out a sigh of frustration. _Could this day get any more irritating?_

"Well, he's on his way to California. Leena wanted us to drive back to Fresno, and then go chase him through some national park, or forest, or... anyway, she said we could sleep and then catch up to him," Claudia explained. "But we could start driving now, if you think we should. I don't mind," she lied. She hadn't rested well the night before, with the excitement and nervousness of being sent into the field, and she estimated she'd been up for twenty-two hours at this point. But if Pete and Leena both had a bad feeling about Artie, then that obviously came first. Through half-closed eyes, Claudia watched Pete nod. She drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. It wasn't quite the aggravated scream she wanted to let loose with, but it helped.

Within minutes, they were checked out and back in the car, Pete in the driver's seat with a cup of coffee, and Claudia reclined across the back seat, using her bag for a pillow. Pete surfed the satellite radio stations until he found a nice, relaxing jazz station. He would have preferred a companion for this drive, but somebody needed to be marginally coherent by the time they caught up to Artie, and Pete figured it should be the one of them that had been bouncing off the walls and running on nothing but coffee since mid-morning. Silently, he prayed to every deity he could think of, that Myka would catch up to Artie before they did, and for her to have the wherewithal to solve the case, so he and Claudia could get some sleep.

* * *

><p>"So where are we now?" Myka asked after a period of comfortable quiet, simply watching the setting sun that was getting away from them even as they pursued it. Joanne glanced briefly at the navigational computer, then she peered out the windows and down at the ground below, pretending to consider the terrain. She grabbed a chart and glanced at it a couple times, then unfolded and refolded it to a different section and studied it some more, even holding it up next to her side window as she compared it to the landscape below, just for the effect.<p>

"Pretty sure that's Denver, over there," Joanne said, pointing toward the large city ahead of them, when she thought she'd carried the act just about far enough. "We've got maybe two hours before... well, unless it's Salt Lake City. I never was good at telling those two apart." Myka stared at the woman, wide-eyed, and Joanne began shaking with gentle laughter. "I'm kidding, the navigation system says we're over Greeley, Colorado, and I know darn well what Denver looks like from eighteen thousand feet. We're still heading southwest, and we'll turn more directly west in a little bit."

"How do you read all that?" Myka asked, staring in awe at the display Joanne had pointed to. The easy, confident smile spread across the pilot's face again, and she began to patiently explain each piece of information, starting with the navigational information and moving along to the rest of the gauges and controls.

"You want to try it?" Joanne offered when she realized she'd explained just about every switch, and the fascinated expression was still present on Myka's face. The other woman gave Joanne an almost frightened look that made her chuckle. "What? It's not that hard, and I'm right here. I'm not going to let anything happen. Grab the yoke."

She shot another of her warm smiles at Myka as the agent gingerly reached out, as if she thought the controls would bite her if she didn't handle them just so. "It's a little like driving. You make tiny motions, miniscule corrections this way and that, just enough to keep us nice and even. Want to give it a try?" Joanne kept her attention focused on her job, even while glancing at Myka now and then, watching the way Myka's expression was slowly changing from terror to curiosity. The experienced pilot knew that look; it was only a matter of time before fascination would overshadow fear.

After a few more minutes, Myka found her voice. "Yeah, sure, when am I ever going to get the opportunity again?" Joanne smiled at her again, taking the opportunity to double-check where Myka's hands and feet were before she turned over control.

"Just make tiny corrections," she reminded Myka. Giving frequent feedback and encouragement, she talked Myka through not only flying even, but through using the rudder, and banking towards the west coast, all the while watching the look of uncertainty melt into confidence and just a touch of empowerment. That was always Joanne's favourite part, watching even a very strong, independent woman like Myka gain an even stronger sense of accomplishment through the simple act of flying.

"Wait till I tell Pete about this," Myka muttered, glancing towards the instruments to verify her position in the atmosphere.

"Wait till you tell Artie," Joanne said. "As many times as he's sat up here with me, I have never gotten that man to touch anything, let alone take full control."

Myka burst out laughing at that. "Artie, _not _touching everything like he owns the place?" she said. She wasn't quite sure she believed that one.

"I know, it's weird, but he won't do it," Joanne replied. "And here you are, flying it so well, I could practically go take a nap!" The women laughed together, and Joanne watched as another layer of Myka's shell peeled away. Joanne grinned again, settling into a comfortable conversation with her impromptu first officer. This flight wasn't going to suck as badly as she'd thought when she'd gotten the call, she decided as the subject of their somewhat-idle chatter turned to their shared irritation with Artie's more annoying ways.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Greetings from vacation! I got nagged, so I pulled a chapter together and let it fly... hope you like it!

* * *

><p>Joanne's serious expression melted into a smile when she heard the jet engines power down, her own personal signal that she could shift into off-duty mode. Myka was trying to shift gears also, but she wasn't quite covering over the excitement and empowerment she'd discovered on their shared trip across half the continent. <em>Never fails,<em> Joanne thought. _Doesn't matter who or what a person is, there's always that same sense of newly-discovered freedom in flying an airplane._ She shook off her amusement at Myka, and set about to getting her passenger off the plane.

"You're in luck," Joanne said after a quick phone call. "They have one more rental car for you, waiting up at the passenger terminal. Even has GPS, so you should be able to track down this address, where Leena says Artie was heading," she said, handing Myka a sheet of paper torn from her notepad.

"What about you?" Myka asked as she gathered her bag.

"Me? I have food in the galley, a great bed in the passenger cabin, and a movie in my bag. I'm good for the night, and then it's off to... well, wherever the Warehouse needs me next!" Myka said her goodbyes, then trudged away from the plane and towards the parking lot where she'd been told that Pete would meet her. As she walked, Myka considered Joanne's cheerful disposition, wondering if anyone could really be happy living a life so ungrounded, just floating around without making personal connections or growing any roots. She almost burst into laughter when her own bag swung around and bumped her in the back, reminding her of her own nomadic life, and her own roots in spite of it all... roots like the overly-exuberant redhead bounding up towards her right now, and the driver of the nondescript sedan, half-asleep on the steering wheel as the car idled in the parking lot. With a tired smile, she shifted her bag again, shoving it further behind her as she slipped through the door into the passenger terminal to pick up her car.

* * *

><p>Myka wondered as she neared Artie's location, how she was going to find him in the dark. Nothing in the town seemed well-marked, or well-lit, let alone this far away. But when she turned the last corner, the answer to her questions became clear in a heart-stopping instant. A few hundred feet down the road, she saw the outline of a construction bulldozer, facing the construction site. Squarely in the center of the path lit up by the machinery's headlights, stood a rotund figure that Myka would recognize anywhere, gripping his bag in one hand and what looked like the tesla in the other.<p>

The bulldozer belched a cloud of smoke barely visible by the light of the partially-full moon above, suggesting that their suspect was leaning more heavily on the gas, coaxing the heavy equipment into motion. Myka's foot slammed down on her own gas pedal, in response.

Her rental car skidded around a corner and she lost site of the bulldozer threatening to plow over Artie. She revved the engine, spinning the tires on the loose gravel, bouncing roughly over a small ditch then getting stuck in a chain linked fence.

Myka jerked against the seat belt roughly. In the next instant she was out of the car running toward the sound of heavy machinery.

The slim brunette agent sprinted to the corner of the building. She hesitated and peeked quickly around the corner. In her glimpse, she saw the bulldozer driving toward Artie and she could hear Artie's voice hollering over the machinery noise.

In one motion, Myka unclipped her gun and ripped it from her holster. She clicked off the safety and threw herself around the corner.

Myka ran up to the situation from the side. She aimed her gun at a middle aged man in the driver's seat and quickly walked up in her ready stance. "Stop the bulldozer!" She ordered.

"Myka! Myka! Stop, stop!" Artie hollered in his rapid fire style. He held out his hand with the bag in it to get her to look at him.

"Artie? You ok?" She wasn't willing to let her eyes leave the man in the cab of the dozer.

Even through the rumble of the engine she could hear his exasperated sigh. "Just… don't fire!" he ordered. "Spencer? Spencer! Look at me!"

The dark blond man looked disturbed. He tore his eyes away from Myka's gun to face Artie in his headlights again.

"You don't want to do this." Artie said. "You want to hurt another person? When's it going to stop Spencer?"

Myka could see that Artie was getting to the man. He was sweating and he kept squeezing his eyes behind his rounded glasses. The man yelled, "It's the only way! The land will return! Don't you see? This is the best way." Myka tightened the grip on her gun when the bulldozer lurched forward another few feet.

"No no!" Artie held his hands up and pointed the Tesla at Spencer again. "Spencer!" Artie backed up a step, but held his position between the hospital and the angry man in the bulldozer.

Myka shouted. "Don't do it Spencer!" She didn't have a great shot on the man, but enough to get his attention she thought. "What's doing this to you? Is there something new in your life lately? Something—old?" She felt silly but just wanted to keep him talking instead of driving.

The man named Spencer shook his head. "I already said there's nothing new!" The engine roared and billowed a black cloud as it lurched forward.

Myka didn't have a clear shot at the man. The heavy steel support of the dozer's cab shielded the man from her angle. The bulldozer picked up speed. She looked over her shoulder at Artie with a tinge of fear in her eyes. "Artie move!"

Artie looked hard at the bulldozer. Myka could see that his lips were mumbling. She helplessly waited to see if he would fire the Tesla at least or leap out of the way at the last minute, but her boss just stayed rooted to the spot as the bulldozers headlights focused as they came closer.

Myka finally made out what Artie was saying. She managed to lip read him saying over and over.. "Closer, just a little closer."


End file.
